


Only as Good as Your Last Haircut

by MagitekUnit05953234



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Am I ashamed? No, Chill XV, Gen, Haircuts, Is this a stereotypical hair cutting scene? Yes, Trans Male Character, Trans Noctis, brotherhood era, misgendering and deadnaming but both are accidental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 17:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16289078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagitekUnit05953234/pseuds/MagitekUnit05953234
Summary: “You won’t tell my dad, will you?”“I assume your sudden lack of long hair will be rather telling,” Ignis takes up the scissors from the vanity. “But I won't tell him you tried to do it yourself without asking anyone, no.”





	Only as Good as Your Last Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "mirrors" from Tumblr user raneam-o1's gothic prompt list.

“Nocturne,” Ignis says. “What are you doing to your hair?”

“I’m cutting it,” Noct twists to the side a little to see the mirror better. “What’s it look like?”

“You have multiple beauticians who are capable of doing this for you,” Ignis edges into the bathroom and closes the door, creating a little pocket of universe just for the two of them. 

“They do it wrong,” Noct snips off a long lock near the right ear. “I bring in a picture and they make it all… soft. Never as short as I want either. So I’m doing it myself.”

“Well,” Ignis flinches as another ragged cut is made in Noct’s hair. “They do have restrictions as to how short they can cut your hair. There are expectations for princesses, after all.”

“Fuck that,” Noct puts the scissors down, and  _ gods _ is she really using all-purpose shears to cut her hair? “I don’t care about expectations.”

The last word is spat like a curse, with far more vitriol than the actual cuss before it.

“I know,” Ignis sighs. “Listen, Nocturne. Will you at least let me tidy this up? It’ll look neater if you do.”

Noct pauses, turning her head from side to side to inspect her half-done rush job of a haircut. “Only if you do it right.”

“If you tell me what you want, I will do my best,” Ignis is not a hairdresser. He has never so much as given himself a trim in his sixteen years of life but for Noct he will try.

“Okay,” Noct shuffles off to the side, brushing hair clippings off her shoulders. “You won’t tell my dad, will you?”

“I assume your sudden lack of long hair will be rather telling,” Ignis takes up the scissors from the vanity, wishing he had proper hair shears but not willing to go find a way to acquire some. “But I won't tell him you tried to do it yourself without asking anyone, no.”

“Thanks Iggy,” Noct sits on the side of the tub and describes the cut she wants. Ignis does his best, and when he’s done Noct stares in the mirror, running her hands through her newly cropped hair. She smiles, hesitant at first then wide. “I like it.”

Ignis stands behind her, inspecting his work in the mirror just the same as she is. It’s too choppy and the sides are uneven. Asymmetrical.

“Hey,” Noct clears her throat after a moment. “Do you think you could call me Noctis?”

“Noctis?” Ignis echoes. It’s not a name Ignis has ever heard outside of incredibly old historical texts, the kind that seem like they’ll fall apart if you breath on them wrong. It’s also a name that Ignis knows is strictly masculine. 

“Yeah,” Noct takes a deep breath. “Um. Just between the two of us. Right now, anyway.”

Ignis gets the sense that he’s stumbled into something much bigger than he ever expected, but it’s alright. He  _ knows _ what this is and he will do anything to make Noct comfortable and happy.

“Of course, Noctis. Is there anything else you want me to change?” 

“Oh,” Noctis’s eyes widen, as if she hadn’t really expected such an easy victory over the subject of her own identity. “I mean. Um. You don’t have to but. Maybe. Could you… not call me a princess anymore?”

Noctis hunches over a little, still looking at herself in the mirror but a little shakier now. Ignis isn’t the most touchy-feely kind of person, but he has to fight himself not to rest a comforting hand on Noctis’s shoulder or _ gods forbid _ commit the ultimate break of professionalism: hugging. 

“What would you prefer?”

“Prince,” Noctis murmurs. “Just. Just around me for now. If that’s okay.”

“It’ll always be okay,” Ignis reassures, doing his best to sound like it’s business as usual and not like he’s ridiculously touched that he’s been trusted with something that Noctis seems to just barely have come to terms with himself. “You don’t ever need to hide who you are from me, Prince Noctis.”

Ignis allows himself the sin of a hug when Noctis lets out a relieved cross between a laugh and a sob. 

“Thank you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter [@compromisedunit](https://mobile.twitter.com/compromisedunit)!


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